


Spoke too Soon (Full Moon Ficlet #396 - Hammer)

by JoMouse



Series: Full Moon Ficlets [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Banter, Construction Worker Derek Hale, Don't copy to another site, Hospitalization, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, Pre-Relationship, university student stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles decides to help out a house build for a local charity when he sees the attractive construction worker hanging the flyer. His normal (lack of) grace comes into play in a big way.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Full Moon Ficlets [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652395
Comments: 24
Kudos: 163
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #396: Hammer





	Spoke too Soon (Full Moon Ficlet #396 - Hammer)

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations.
> 
> I tried. I tried really, really hard to keep this under 1K, but I got to a point where I was like, "Fuck it. I like this idea, we are not doing a ficlet this week."
> 
> Unfortunately, between the length of the story and my really screwy work schedule screwing with my sleep schedule (it's almost four in the afternoon and I have to go to bed so I can be up at 11:30 p.m. to work 1 a.m.-2:30 p.m. tomorrow), I wasn't able to get it to my beta in time for her to look it over. So, if there are any glaring grammatical or spelling errors (or if I like say Derek instead of Stiles), please _kindly_ point it out.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles pulled his Jeep up to the address listed on the flyer laying on the passenger seat. He was surprised by the number of vehicles parked haphazardly around the property. As he climbed out, he scanned the people milling about looking for someone in particular. He knew there was no guarantee that the handsome man who had hung the flyer on the bulletin board at the university library would be there but he held out hope.

He was about to give up when he heard a loud whistle and everyone stopped wandering around, turning their attention to the edge of what looked like a freshly poured basement and Stiles grinned when he spotted the hottie. He turned to nudge Scott before remembering his best friend had blown him off declaring that building a house, no matter how good the cause, with Stiles on a Saturday, was not his idea of a good time. Stiles feigned offense, but he didn’t need Scott’s reminder that a construction site was not the safest person for someone with Stiles’ level of grace, which is to say absolutely none.

A fact which was proven as he tried to work his way through the crowd, closer to the front and managed to catch his foot on the corner of a large stack of wood, sending himself and the wood tumbling forward and into the man he’d come here to see, but this wasn’t how he’d wanted to be introduced with him swearing up a storm and the rest of the crowd laughing uproariously. He wanted to stay where he was and hope he was eventually forgotten but instead he felt strong hands grip his biceps and pull him to his feet. 

“Are you alright?” the man asked.

“Everything except my pride and self-esteem,” Stiles muttered and felt a flush of pride when the man chuckled and gently let go of his biceps, but moved one of his hands to the small of his back, steadying him as he turned to address the crowd.

“Greetings, everyone. I see a lot of familiar faces and a few new ones,” he smiled over at Stiles who ducked his head and ran a hand over his face. “For those that don’t know me, my name is Derek Hale and I’m the founder of Hale Construction.” 

He went into a brief history of his involvement with the organization building the house that day before clapping his hands together with a smile. “Time to get down to business. Over the years, I’ve never met a person we couldn’t find a place for on our construction sites. I suspect today will be no different.” He glanced over at Stiles who cucked his head and kicked his toe into the dirt, dislodging a stone that flew up and hit himself in the cheek.

He cursed under his breath as Derek chuckled a bit under his breath before continuing to talk. “Now, everyone has different skill sets so we’ll use those skills to our advantage today. Those of you who are experienced, you know where you’re best used and those of you who are new, come see me and my partner, Boyd,” he gestured to a man standing not far away, one arm draped over the shoulder of a busty blonde who popped a bubble and winked at Stiles when he caught her eye, “and we’ll figure out where best to place you.”

Stiles started to edge back toward his Jeep but felt a tug on his wrist and looked down to see Derek had wrapped a hand around his wrist while he talked to a couple of people. When Stiles tried to break free, Derek’s gaze slipped over to him and he stayed frozen in place. He turned his attention to Stiles once the last person in the line was gone. 

“Have you ever done construction?” Derek asked him and Stiles shook his head. “I’m not surprised.” He should have been offended but the soft smile on Derek’s face softened the words. “Can you paint?”

“Most likely,” he said. “As long as you aren’t looking for artistic ability. The most intricate I’ve ever done is that spiky ‘s’ thing all kids draw.” 

“Alright, until we get to the point of painting, why don’t you help me move some topsoil and plants from the trucks to the backyard area?” Stiles flushed under the way he blatantly checked him out. “You look like you could do some heavy lifting.”

“Not as much as you,” Stiles muttered under his breath, wanting to throw himself into the basement when Derek laughed and started walking away. 

Hurrying after him, he managed to sidestep a large pile of bags of topsoil and managed to step on the blade of a shovel, snapping the handle upwards. It would’ve smacked him in the face if Derek’s reflexes hadn’t been unbelievable and he caught it in one hand and kept Stiles on his feet with the other. 

“You are a danger to yourself and everyone around you, aren’t you, kid?” Stiles opened his mouth but Derek kept talking. “I should probably get your name in case I have to give it to the EMS when they undoubtedly show up.” 

Derek was an expert at saying things that should be insulting but sounded fond more than anything so he gave a dry laugh in response. “Stiles. Stilinksi.” 

Derek’s head gave a strange jerk, his lips twisting into a smirk he’d seen many times in the past. “Your name is Stiles Stilinski?”

“The only name I’ll answer to,” he countered.

The silence stretched between them as they studied each other. Just when it became uncomfortable, Derek turned and grabbed two bags of soil, hefting one over each shoulder. “Grab one and let’s go.” He turned to watch as Stiles debated copying his actions. “ _ One _ , Stiles. You don’t need to overdo it. We’ve got a lot of time.”

Pouting, Stiles bent over to pick up one of the bags, startling and nearly face planting into the plastic when there was a loud whistle. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Derek staring at him, the bags still balanced on his shoulders, arm muscles bulging and a smirk on his face. “Lift with your knees, not your back!” he called out and Stiles fought the urge to flip him off even though from his position it was obvious he was about to do the wrong thing.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Stiles squatted down and picked up one of the bags, losing his breath slightly from the weight as he pushed to his feet and moved slowly to catch up with Derek. He forced his eyes to study the ground in front of him, avoiding any pitfalls that would send him falling to the ground and humiliating him even further than he’d already managed that morning.

The next hour goes mostly smoothly, except for the thick layer of sweat and dirt that Stiles winds up with on his face, but it made Derek smile and shake his head in a way that looked fond and sent warmth through him that had nothing to do with the sun moving higher into the sky. They talked while they worked and Stiles discovered Derek was more than just a good looking guy with a knack for building homes; he was intelligent with multiple degrees as well as quick wit and a sense of humor so dry the Sahara would be jealous.

Stiles stopped to grab a bottle of water from a cooler set up under a tent when Derek got pulled away to help Boyd with lifting a wall and putting it into place. Opening the bottle, he leaned against a table and drank quickly, choking and he saw Derek glance over at him, eyebrows narrowed in concern. Stiles waved him off and wiped his arm across his mouth and turned his attention to everything going on around him.

After he’d made the decision to come help on the site, he’d spent days doing what he did best and researching. He’d watched a bunch of time-lapse construction videos on house building and as he watched, he recognized some of the things that people were doing. He moved closer to a couple of people that were putting together frames for the roof and Stiles thought he could handle helping them out and spoke up to offer his services.

A lanky guy with light curly hair gave him a look and then called out to Derek. “Can this guy help us frame?”

Derek was wiping his hands off on a black bandana before tucking it in his back left pocket. He studied Stiles before turning his attention to the nail gun in the other guy’s hand. The sigh he gave rankled Stiles for the first time all day but when Derek spoke, his words soothed him a bit. “Sure, Isaac, give him a chance, but watch him.”

Isaac nodded and flashed a grin at Stile who tried to keep his excitement hidden, failing when he did a small fist pump and Derek and Isaac both laughed at him. He reached for the nail bun, holding it up to study it and flinching when Derek jumped out of the way. ‘Whoops.”

“Just watch where you’re aiming that thing,” Derek told him, smiling and turning his head when a large truck pulled onto the site. “I have to go sign for the delivery.” He turned back to Stiles, his expression serious but his eyes soft. “Be careful, Stiles.”

Stiles smiled to himself as Derek walked away and he swore he wasn’t watching the slow swing of his hips as his gait turned into a strut. He wiped at his face, hoping he wasn’t drooling when he heard someone laughing at him. Turning, he saw Isaac with a knowing look on his face. “Nice view?”

“Shut up and show me how to use this thing,” Stiles said, holding up the nail gun and feeling a lot less confident than he had when Derek was watching him. “Or give me a hammer. I know how to use one of those.” He shrugged mentally remembering the failed birdhouse he’d attempted with his father when he was six and the trip to the hospital when he’d dropped the hammer on his father’s foot.

Stiles listened carefully as Isaac showed him how to hold the gun properly with enough pressure to keep it from bouncing back when the trigger was pulled. He jumped a little the first couple of times but eventually fell into a rhythm and allowed himself to relax. Someone turned on a radio nearby and Stiles bounced his head along to the eighties music, grinning when Isaac sang along and laughed out loud when the blonde that had been standing with Boyd earlier stopped what she was doing to belt out the chorus into the hammer she had in her hands.

Stiles was working on the last section of the roof frame, just a few more nails to go when a hand landed on his shoulder. Startling, he jumped, the nail gun slipping off the wood and hitting the toe of his shoe with a loud bang. Stiles dropped the gun, staring down at his foot in horror. Between one breath and the next, the pain hit and he looked up at a horrified Derek. 

“Pull it out,” Stiles hissed, unable to move more than his mouth.

“No,” Derek said calmly, reaching for Stiles’ arm and draping it over his shoulder as he called out to Isaac to call 911. Boyd appeared at Stiles’ other side and mirrored Derek’s motion before they both reached down and grabbed one leg, lifting Stiles up and moving him over to one of the picnic tables set up for lunch and set him on the top. 

“Pull it out,” Stiles tried again, his head spinning as Derek took a water bottle from the blonde who reached to stop Stiles from grabbing the nail himself.

“We can’t. It’s probably slowing the bleeding,” he explained, pouring the water over his foot, shoe and all before kneeling down and looking at the bottom of his foot and wincing. 

“What?” Stiles squeaked, trying to shake the blonde loose. “Let go of me!” 

“No,” she said, firmly. “Hi, Stiles. I’m Erica. Boyd’s girlfriend,” she said instead. “How did you hear about the build today?”

Stiles gave her wide eyes and started to shout at her when she squeezed his hands and continued talking. “You know, we love having new people on the builds and we hope this little incident won’t keep you from coming back to hang out with us. Maybe next time you can help me out with the organization? That would be fun.” She winked at him. “We could get to know each other better.”

“What the fuck?” Stiles asked and then heard the sirens in the distance and realized he hadn’t thought about his foot in at least a few seconds. “You’re trying to distract me?” He accused, pointing a finger at her and poking the tip of her nose.

She went cross-eyed looking at his finger before pulling back and biting the tip of it, breaking into laughter as the ambulance came to a stop and the paramedics hurried over. “It worked,” she said, stepping back as the men got to work, and the next thing Stiles knew he was in the back of the ambulance on his way to Beacon Hills Memorial.

The next couple of hours went by in a blur once they gave him an IV and filled it with something that burned going in but felt amazing afterward. He remembered Scott’s mom coming in to check on him and promising to call his dad but then he must have dozed off watching a rerun of some stupid movie about teen werewolves playing basketball because the next time he woke up the television was off.

The room was dark and as he glanced around, trying to find the cup of water he vaguely remembered a patient care assistant bringing into him, his eyes fell on a dark shape in the chair near the bed. “Dad?” he croaked out of his parched throat.

“Bit too early to be calling me that,” a voice that definitely wasn’t his dad responded before sitting up to give Stiles a good look at his face. “And isn’t the term usually ‘daddy’?”

Stiles lifted the IV free hand to cover his face, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “What are you doing here, Derek?” he mumbled, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him and, with his luck, it just might.

“Wanted to make sure you were alright,” he answered, standing up and stretching before picking up the cup off the overbed table and holding it so Stiles could take it and sip from the straw. He nearly dropped the cup when something was dropped in his lap. “Plus, I got you a present. Actually, Erica ran out and bought it but made me bring it to you.”

Stiles’ face fell; he’d actually thought Derek wanted to see him but he was just running an errand. “Hey,” Derek said, softly as he moved to turn on the light in the room and returned to the bed, sitting on the edge. “I was already planning on coming to see you when she gave it to me. I would’ve been here a bit sooner, but we had some trouble with the window installation.”

“Probably because some idiot shot themselves int he foot, literally, and messed up the entire job,” he muttered, fingers running over the plastic bag from a local toy store in his lap.

Derek reached out and took Stiles’ chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head so their eyes met. “Hey, it was an accident and I was worried about you.” 

“You don’t even  _ know _ me,” Stiles argued.

“You don’t know me either, but you still showed up to the job site after seeing me hang a flyer at the university,” Derek told him and Stiles’ eyes widened in horror at being caught out and wondered how obvious his staring had been. “I was walking by the library on my way to visit little sister when I saw you go into the library. I might have followed you inside and then chickened out of saying ‘hi,’ so I hung up the flyer and hoped it might get you to come so I could meet you where I felt comfortable. I figured if you didn’t even look at the flyer I could take it down, but you stole it before I got a chance.”

“Didn’t want to lose the address,” he muttered and Derek chuckled, a warm sound that Stiles felt in his stomach. Taking a deep breath and planning to blame the drugs if what he did next didn’t work out, Stiles blurted out, “Do you want to maybe have dinner with me after I get out of here?”

“I’d like that,” Derek told him, glancing down at his phone when it pinged. Rolling his eyes, he nudged the bag towards Stiles again. “Open this up. Erica is driving me nuts wanting to know your reaction.” He looked down at the phone again and then back up. “Do you mind if I video it?”

“Why not? I’m almost scared now but you wouldn’t let her get me anything that would hurt me, right?”

“I’ve only known you a day and I’ve seen you trip on air,” Derek said with a smile as he lifted the phone up. “Pretty sure that means you could find a way to hurt yourself with anything.”

Stiles gave a sarcastic laugh as he opened the bag and reached inside, pulling out a plastic bag with a cardboard header. Looking inside the plastic he started laughing at the toy toolbelt complete with plastic tools inside. Carefully, he pulled off the cardboard, managing to avoid the staples and reached in to pull it out. “Well, it’s a little small, but at least I can’t hurt myself with plastic tools,” he said as he started to take the hammer out, the claw catching on the elastic holding it in place.

Growling to himself, he gave it one more tug and it pulled loose with greater force than expecting and flew right into his eyes. Slapping his hand over his eye, Stiles let out a mix of a yelp and a groan as he let himself fall back against his pillow.

“Spoke too soon,” Derek said, his lips pressed together as he fought back a laugh that exploded out of him when Stiles glared at him with one eye before joining him in the laughter, reaching for the nurse call button to request an ice pack.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are gold (you have no idea how much I appreciate the Sterek fandom, seriously).
> 
> Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm 'josjournal' over there.


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